


There Are No Happy Endings

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cocaine, Drinking, Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, its holiday season, mall escapades, serial killer on the loose, slowburn, tags will be updated as chapters get updated so no spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: He hated this town with every fiber of his being, the people, the stores, the culture, but with nowhere left to turn Theon Greyjoy finds himself crashing at his old home for winter break. Little do the Starks know everything is spiraling for their old friend/ family member. With no home, little to no money, and a quickly increasing drug problem he wants to try and straighten his life out before it's too late. The strict police chief Stark would probably be breathing down his neck as usual if he didn't have more on his plate to deal with already. A rapidly rising string of crimes has plagued the small forest town and no one knows the perpetrators. With each offense getting more violent the Winterfell police department fears they might have a serial killer on their hands.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, implied one sided robb stark/theon greyjoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Cold Receptions

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is the piece I've always wanted to share and is my longest work to date. Feedback is very much appreciated and I would love to hear your theories and thoughts!

Damn. He let his forehead thump against the steering wheel, letting out an exaggerated sigh. It would definitely be weirder if he just left after sitting in their driveway for like...an eternity. No matter how long he sat there the tightness in his throat wouldn’t go away. Wishing he could chalk it up to paranoia the man couldn’t help but laugh a bit, maybe it was a bad idea to show up stoned and it sure as hell wasn’t helping his case for sticking around long. This wouldn’t be the first or last time that Theon had slunk around the Stark house high as a fucking kite, but, that wasn’t exactly the issue this time around. One last glance in the rearview mirror and he was fighting the stiff door open against the frigid wind. The Greyjoy cursed under his breath, barely catching himself on the car's trunk before the ice could knock him on his ass. His fingers were numb before he even touched the cold metal; Once he managed to wrench the little door open, he wasted no time pulling out a lumpy duffel bag and slinging it over one shoulder haphazardly.

Winter on the Iron Islands was nothing compared to the brutal cold that clawed its way through Winterfell every year. That grey drizzle couldn’t hold a candle to the fierce snowfall the North boasted. Theon used to hate it with a passion, complaining often and loudly to anybody that would listen. Now it was a comfortable familiarity that settled over the vast landscape every season. Well...It sure wasn’t very fucking comfortable when his socks were soaked all the way through, the stuff already melting into his shoes. Pristine snow blanketed the driveway untouched; Even the drifts that settled on the roof seemed painted on.

Intimidating as ever, the large Stark home loomed over its visitor, half-lidded windows seemed to regard him carefully. There was probably somebody else that could take him in, anybody else preferably. Each step slowed as he reconsidered. His sister didn’t live that far away...maybe he could try calling her again; It was up for debate if she would answer the phone or not. Roz always picked up, but he wasn’t too keen to call her up either after the last time they “encountered” each other. Pausing on the porch, Theon stared holes into the dark wooden door.

Fuck this, I’m going to Jeyne’s-

“Theon!” Just his luck, “I thought that was your car outside, why don’t you come on in it’s freezing out there.”

“Hello Mrs. Stark,” He mostly mumbled, gingerly stepping into the foyer. “Thank you.”

It felt like every time he came to visit more useless shit was added to menagerie of knick-knacks that choked the shelves, and with the holidays around the corner, Catelyn was well prepared with scented candles and decorations straight out of the imagination of Martha Stewart and Pier One Imports. It was difficult not to laugh, less difficult with how stifling it was. The heat was a welcome difference, but not for long, he had to lose a few layers before he had a heatstroke. Mrs. Stark carried on about the weather and traffic, and all other manners of boring shit the Greyjoy couldn’t bring himself to care about. Nonetheless, he added a response every few moments to make it seem like he was paying attention. It was his least favorite little dance he and Catleyn had, the one where they had conversations that went nowhere as if they were interested in what they had to say to one another. 

“-Upstairs waiting for you.” Shit, maybe he should have been listening after all.

“Yeah, Thanks a million,” Theon said, brushing off the look she shot him as he pushed past her to navigate the familiar halls. 

Paintings new and old hung on the same grey walls, he tilted a few on his way past the clusters of family portraits and camping trips. It had only been about two years since he had shlepped around the claustrophobic suburban nightmare, but it looked more or less unchanged. It was both abysmal and kind of annoying; At least he knew where he was going. The door at the far left end of the second floor, Robb’s room. Knicks still littered the frame where they had practiced throwing knives, Catelyn had a conniption about it. Theon didn’t hesitate to knock this time; pounding on the door as obnoxiously as possible.

“Goddammit, Greyjoy!” Behind the oak came a hurried shuffling and the doorframe was suddenly occupied.

“What’s up douche?” The brunet grinned and pushed past his taller compatriot to toss his shit on the floor and flop over into the nearest chair; Kicking his muddy chucks up on Stark’s little computer desk.

“Just waiting around for your stupid face to get here, I thought you said you’d be here by one o’clock?”

“I’m fashionably late,” Theon spoke in a faux haughty voice, “Plus I desperately needed some Taco Bell on the way here.”

Robb just laughed, hopping onto the perfectly made bed that occupied most of the floor space. “Heaven forbid I get between you and a greasy burrito. I’ve been home for a few days anyway, you could have come over sooner.”

“What? did they boot you out of that fancy school already?”

“Very funny, My next semester starts in January.” He swatted him on the back on the head, “And what about you smartass, I thought you were going to be on the Iron Islands for winter break?”

The smirk dropped off his face, posture tensing ever so slightly, damn I shouldn’t have mentioned school “It doesn’t matter where I go for WinTer bReAk,” He mocked, “I am not going back to that piece of shit excuse for a college.” finishing by muttering something incomprehensible about all the teachers having it out for him and that the early classes blew anyway.

“So you’re just going to drop out?” He asked incredulously, “and do... what exactly?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Theon,” He hated when Robb put on the fucking Ned voice, “How are you going-”

“I don’t fucking know!” Theon threw his hands up in frustration, tired of the same prodding questions “I’ll figure something out eventually, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, I just fucking got here.”

The other man was silent for a moment and then carried on with a different conversation. He was thankful that Stark could take a fucking hint, he wasn’t eager to start thinking of his next move. After he started flunking most of his classes from attendance alone the little shit decided he didn’t need to bother to go at all. When he waltzed back into his father’s house announcing that he had dropped out, the old bastard wasn’t too happy to see his long lost son. As it turns out Balon hadn’t missed him very much over the last ten years or so. He didn’t think he could ever show his face around the Greyjoy place ever again, not only did he punch a hole in the wall but might have smashed a lamp through a window...he wasn’t so sure...he was angry and a little buzzed. Okay. Wasted. But that was beside the point, he wasn’t the one at fault.

Now he was here, back in the fucking Brady Bunch, suffering through their looks of pity buried below the distaste the people of this cruddy town carried for his last name. He knew at the time that calling the landline was a double-edged sword, no caller I.D. so they wouldn’t just send it straight to voicemail but it could be anybody picking up. Much to his chagrin, it was Catelyn’s voice that broke the dialing tone. He loathed himself for punching in their number and stooping to asking the northern family for help. Before a word came out of his mouth she already began spouting off about Robb home for the winter and how he should come out there to visit for a few weeks as well...he had a feeling that the eldest Stark boy had been pestering his family nonstop for days about coaxing Theon home for the Holidays. It was a much easier excuse to stay for a few nights and there was no need to mention that he had been kicked out of his dorm room after he dropped. 

“-when the professor fell off the podium right onto the tables.” He tuned back in at a good time, laughing with Robb. He did admit to himself that he enjoyed the other man’s company. He couldn’t help but feel kind of bad for ignoring him for the last year or so, and there was no “busy with college” justification anymore; Though it’s not like he went out of his way to talk to Theon either. Shaking off the nagging feeling of guilt, the pair fell into conversation with ease. He’d almost forgotten the Robb he grew up with...forthright, succinct, with a raucous side that the older boy dragged out of him. Trouble had always found them when they were together, or rather, Theon found the trouble. He couldn’t really recall a time when the two weren’t in hot water with someone or another. Though, the eldest Stark eventually lived up to the name and straightened out… shipping himself off to some prestigious university in the Riverlands.

Not out loud, but he admitted to himself that he felt betrayed when Robb started shoving all his belongings in boxes and packing up his shitty car to leave. That goody-two-shoes was the only person he’d really dub family but it should have occurred to him that the day would come when he’d get tired of the same old kicks with the same old person. A lawyer… it was hardly a stretch for a Stark but he couldn’t see Robb in law school... not the Robb that helped him key Joffery Lannister’s Mercedes. When the other man announced his acceptance letter, not a moment was spared to throw a gratuitous celebration. Theon fought the jealousy that rose in his throat like sour bile and fought the bile that rose in his throat when he got absolutely sloshed at the ‘little’ get together Catelyn had whipped up. It’s not like he wasn’t proud of his so-called brother, nothing was more enlightening than the warm smile that Robb had when he talked about all his classes and extracurricular bullshit but...the incessant yammering about new friends irked him. Trying not to let it paint his face with distaste was a task of its own. Nevertheless, the Greyjoy tried his damnedest to focus on the ‘now’. After all, just a few measly years can’t change a person too drastically...right? Fuck, he sure hoped not. 

“I was thinking if you’re up for it tomorrow we can head to that Mall over on 3rd street,” He proposed, “I know you just did a lot of driving but I’ll never get anything done if I take Sansa.”

“I don’t know…maybe if you bribe me with that Tyroshi restaurant that’s in the food court I might consider it.” 

“Deal.”

Though Theon despised shopping, especially the holiday variety, it wouldn’t be so bad to get to hang out with Robb one on one for a change. Not to mention all the chicks that hung around the mall like it was their day job; He wouldn’t mind convincing one of the easier ones to sneak off to the nearest bathroom stall for a quickie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It only felt like a few minutes but before long, the windows began to grow darker by the second, and Catelyn’s shrill yell called them down for dinner. A home-cooked meal sounded both cheesy as hell and actually pretty delicious. It had been quite a while since Theon ate anything that didn’t consist of snack food or instant noodles. Don’t get him wrong, Pringles were the chips of Gods, but sometimes you need real sustenance. Unfortunately, you can’t live on those shitty little fruit pies they sell at gas stations forever or at least that’s what Yara always bitched at him about. 

Theon hopped up off his perch, pushing past Robb to beat him down the stairs, nearly taking a tumble halfway down. He hated that it made him feel like he was in highschool again but had to admit it was familiar and comfortable. Similar to the ‘good ol’ days’ as some lonely fifty-year-old bastard would say, he hooked a left to stroll into the family room to summon the other children to a not very well-earned meal. The not-so-quaint den boasted the gaudiest leather sectional on this side on the county, both overstuffed and offensively large. Dense shaggy carpet lined the vast floor, though minimalism wasn’t exactly the Stark brand, everything was perfectly tidy. The heavy coffee table didn’t have any lingering cups or snacks, decorative candles were the only thing occupying space on the end tables. It didn’t look lived in like a house should be but he guessed that his former dorm looked like a hurricane had torn through it so he couldn’t judge. The living room was occupied by one grim Sansa Stark, watching the news probably for the first time in her life. Arya sat on the floor and was paying more attention to her phone than the droning television.

“Dinner, fuckwads.” Was his only addition to the anchorman spewing unenthusiastic facts about some story no one cared about.

“Shhh, Dad’s on T.V.” Horseface mumbled, not even looking up.

It took every fiber of his being not to roll his eyes; who gave a fuck it’s not like they didn’t see him every day.

Sure enough, the stern-looking man occupied the screen and immediately began rambling about a case he was working on. That voice alone pissed the boy off, but it continued anyway, listing off details of a string of crimes that had escalated in the past few months. Ned Stark was the type of man that kept his uniform pressed and his eyes hard. As if being the police chief in this dinky town was the pinnacle of achievements any dimwit should hope for. Winterfell was no city by any means, but the patriarch of the family kept himself rather busy with the flow of idiots who can’t spot a cop car from a few feet away. Occupied mostly with parking tickets and drunk teens, Theon was sure that the higher-profile stuff was way more intriguing as of late.

“And if anyone has information, please call the station at -”

“I thought I told you dinner was ready?” Catelyn glared, “I’m not going to be heating it up for you if it gets cold.”

Without another word on the matter, she turned on her heels and strode off towards the dining room. As expected her little loyal ducklings switched the T.V. off and followed suit, Robb throwing a knowing glance at Theon. It was no secret that Cat hated hearing any inkling about her husband’s line of work, and changed the subject the moment it came up. On the other hand, his children were always eager to hear about the daring tales of pulling over some dude for running a red light or a gas station that had a few condoms shoplifted. Ah yes, it was dangerous work but someone had to do it, It put bread on the table and an ego in their heads. Hey, as long as he could have a place to sleep and food to eat he wouldn’t complain...that loudly at least.

As expected, the dark wooden table was laden with a good old fashion supper of meatloaf and other suburban fever dreams. The potatoes were questionable but the Greyjoy never turned down food that didn’t come prepackaged. Catelyn had even set an extra place at the table for him, where he used to sit. It didn’t take everyone long to begin tearing through the meal at Mrs. Starks’s dismay, quite a pearl-clutcher that they hadn’t said grace but she quickly let it go when the compliments were bleated out between bites. A picturesque moment for a poster home life, it felt surreal to rejoin the simple ritual of a dinner with a normal, nuclear family. Through mouthfuls of subpar, grocery store meat they rambled about their day, school, other bullshit that occupied their time. Much like the meal, it was tolerable at points and difficult at others, but it was something. It started to bum him out, the monotonous normality. It plucked at his stomach that the previous high was wearing off so damn fast. Theon was needing a pick-me-up and needing it bad; Excusing himself to the little boy’s room he quickly slunk off to the nearest privy. 

The lights were certainly less dim than any of the gas station rest stops he frequented. Marble countertops were certainly a change, the sink was functional too. For a brief moment, he didn’t want to disrespect his old stomping ground with his horrible habits, the memories squandered by a weakness he had no control over. At least that is what he told himself to get to sleep at night. Before long the pause was over and he was yanking a little baggy out of the smaller pocket of his jeans. Theon almost couldn’t look at himself in the finely polished mirror reflecting his shortfalls. Loose and powdery, his vice lined up nicely on the solid surface below it. Doing a line in his childhood bathroom sent his heart racing or maybe it was the coke, but it was exhilarating either way. It burned his nose with the sweetest sensation, the rush hit him not long after. Fingers crossed that they hadn’t heard the snuffling and stray coughs emanating from the adjacent bathroom, or notice the few extra seconds he waited to make sure a torrent of blood didn’t ruin his favorite shirt. Shaking off the jitters he prepared to rejoin the menagerie of goody-two-shoes that plagued his existence. With one final wipe of his runny nose, he swung the door open with a newfound pep in his step. 

“-have no leads but Officer Cassel has more than a few grand ideas about who is behind this.” Reentering the dining room pulled the breath from Theon’s lungs. Ned was already sat down and joining the cacophony; Solemn face still lingering from ‘work mode’ as the other Stark kids had named it. How long was I in the bathroom?

“Theon.” Mr.Starks voice broke his scattered high thoughts, “I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I trust it wasn’t too difficult with all the snow?”

Ugh, his voice grated on the boy’s last nerve, it always sounded like he was accusing the Greyjoy of something...shoving unknown blame on him to vainly attempt to root out any real impertinence. What he wouldn’t give for that asshole to talk to him like a normal human being; He never fucking talked to Robb like this. Lost in a short flurry of anger he almost forgot he hadn’t responded.

“Uh...No Mr. Stark, the roads were fine.” He struggled to keep a sarcastic tone from ringing in his voice. Ned didn’t particularly hate sarcasm but he sure did when it spouted from Theon. He gingerly took his seat once more, trying his hardest to walk straight for fear of showing any sign of being lit off his ass. Much to his relief, the conversation moved on without him, dour looks shadowing his and Catelyn’s faces.

After hauling all the dirty dishes to the kitchen sink, everyone went their respective ways. Eager to disperse from socializing with each other for longer than an hour; taking for granted that their family wanted anything to do with each other at all. Most of them wandered up to their beds, tuckered out after a long day of doing jack shit. Theon, on the other hand, was wired and raring to go out on the town with his ‘long lost’ friend.

“Come oooon ginger,” He groaned, “You mean you never partied with any of those college babes?”

“‘College babes’? Is this a crappy highschool movie?” Robb didn’t look super down to slink around Winterfell in the cold of the night. “There’s nowhere even that cool to go nearby.”

Tapping his leg like a hyperactive child, “You don’t want to go get blasted at some back alley bar? Every county has at least one.”

“I highly doubt Mom would be that excited about us running off this late.”

“Late? It’s only 11...we’re adults man...not 10-year-olds.” Greyjoy scoffed at him. “You don’t need to ask mommy’s permission.”

Robb chewed on his lip like this was the biggest debate of his life, it’s not like they hadn’t snuck out before. The brunet stood there waiting for an answer, flashing over the top puppy-dog eyes for good measure. He would bet his life that the other had kept his fake I.D. from their later years in high school; The pair got into quite the escapades before Stark pussied up. Theon didn’t really need a fake anymore, he had turned 21 a couple of months ago.

“...Fine.” He said with a smile in his voice but not so much his visage, “But we should get back before 5 a.m., Dad leaves for work then.”

“Yeah!” A few fist pumps in the air later, he was rummaging through his backpack for his wallet and keys.

They wasted no time squeezing out the tiny second-story window and shimmying down the lattice fence that created a patchwork on the front porch; Deftly stepping over the flowers dying off in the winter chill. Ah...just like he remembered it, the two bolted through the lawn and narrowly escaped a horrendous fall on the ice-slick driveway to slide to a stop next to the old beater the former islander called his pride and joy. He probably should have been more embarrassed by the state of disarray that his car was kept in but Robb knew the drill by now, he cleaned it when either someone complained enough or when he planned on getting laid...both being rare occurrences according to the Stark boy.

Speeding through the barren streets of the dark town, they easily found their way to a nameless establishment that shied away from the light of day. Ransacked, broken windows, rotting wood...Theon breathed in a deep sigh of familiarity. No questions asked, no one willing to rat anyone out...a perfect den of secrecy made for a conniving asshole looking for a cheap thrill. Chilly air bit at their napes, coat collars pulled up to protect the onslaught of the weather did little to shield them from the run to the bar. It was everything Robb hoped it wouldn’t be, shittty pool tables, troubled patrons...it screamed desperate and desolate. Theon’s compatriot looked more than a little apprehensive, whether it was the stained, splintering floorboards or the duct tape patched barstools he couldn’t guess. Spotting a couple open seats right on the bar, the Greyjoy began shoving past people to claim them first; shoulder-checking a feel of the clientele a little harder than necessary.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, dickweed!” He chided at someone he ran into near full force; The dark-haired man didn’t look too impressed with this big show.

Redhead in tow behind him, Theon finally saddled up to the sticky wooden countertop. The second his ass made contact with the stool his arm was already flailing through the air, cussing out the bartender to hurry it along. If the Stark was not uncomfy before... he certainly was now.

“Thee you can’t plow through people like that,” His blue eyes scanned the crowd nervously, “You’ll piss them off.”

“I come here all the time they know I’m fucking around.” Greyjoy started ignoring him the second the bartender gave a resigned sigh and decided to help the pair. Robb didn’t even hear what his friend had ordered for them, he was glancing around the claustrophobic sea of bodies and noticing the occasional death glare boring into Theon’s back.

“I can see that.” Dropping it for fear of inciting something worse. 

“Two Rum and Cokes…” The stocky man grunted inaudibly, “Fairies.”

It was unsettling how quickly the other man downed his drink, taking the mixed drink like a huge shot. Slamming his glass down dramatically he waved his hand to order another...like a poker player would wave their hand to hold...it was douchey, to say the least. All Robb did was chuckle and sipped on his drink, it by no means was the weakest rum he’d ever drank but it was no straight shot. For a while, it was just like the nights they used to sneak out when He was feeling particularly brave, chatting, complaining, doing stupid dares. Robb wished he could say he felt the same way he did back then...personally only on his third drink he feared for Theon’s safety on his seventh drink of the evening and it hadn’t even been two hours. Boisterous was the closest word to describe his state, jaunty, and challenging anybody in the vicinity to a brawl. It was unlike anything he’d seen the boy do, sure he was rowdy and a tad bit of a trouble maker but this was a new mask that Robb had yet to see his childhood friend don in public. After the Greyjoy returned from his second trip to the bathroom he was ready to call it quits.

“We oughtta head out, huh?” His stiff voice softened by the nice buzz running through his head, “Thee?”

“Just a couple moooore,” He clapped a hand onto his back and called for another couple drinks.

“How are we going to get home, man?” Robb picked at the fake leather covering his seat.

“Drive of course,” He said it like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. The Stark didn’t trust his wide-blown sea-glass eyes...a gut feeling told him that his buddy wasn’t just wasted. Everything seemed to be off, the energy, the excitement burning in his raspy voice...He normally wasn’t this wired or high strung.

“Not like this you can’t!” The loud retort garnished a few side-eyed glances from the other patrons.

Theon went silent for a bit, the moment dragged out all the way until their new drinks arrived, in his eyes, a thousand questions and answers seemed to run along like a teleprompter out of control. Robb couldn’t quite place the meaning. The Shorter man took a long slow swill from his fresh cup... setting it down gently like he was trying to act normal...but the other boy could see the shaking.

“I’m sor-”

“I can drive you guys home if you need.” A nearby stranger interrupted.

“That’s okay, thank you.” He didn’t exactly trust people who Theon shoved around on presumably a nightly basis, “I’m alright to drive...Give me your keys Greyjoy.”

Without question, he handed them over. His inebriated skulk to the car was promptly after he sucked down both the rest of his drink and the untouched one Robb seemed to forgo. He’d slapped down a crumpled fifty but it’s not like he stuck around to hear his actual bill tally. Regret tried to weasel its way into his thought process on the trip home but he pushed it all away, save it for sober him to deal with some other time....right now he was riding a good high and didn’t want to come down just yet.


	2. New Habits Die Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy!

Throughout the night the ceiling unsurprisingly stayed the same, no matter how long Theon stared at it with the stabbing headache massacring his last brain cell. It hadn’t occurred to him that it might be a couple of days before he could get anything to drink or smoke, surely making the nights drag on a little longer than necessary. His little home remedy to insomnia wouldn’t fly here so he had to forgo a flask during the visit. The clock read five in the damn morning when he heard the rest of the household start to stir from a good night’s rest; up bright and early holidays be damned. He rubbed at his face in a futile effort to push the ache from his eyes; with a yawn and a satisfying stretch he rolled over and planted his feet on the cold ground. Secretly he was glad that the Starks were busybodies, it was better than having to lie around in bed any longer.

Though it had been a few days since Robb and his late-night escapade at the seedy downtown bar, guilt still clogged his throat...but that wasn’t something a Greyjoy let bog them down. It felt like he betrayed his so-called brother, getting shit-face to the point of nearly being unable to walk, showing off the weak side he tried to keep within himself. It had been a bit since then and he hadn’t had a lecture or some kind of ‘intervention’ so he counted himself lucky...but he could tell...the slight change in his friend’s demeanor. Asking him if he was okay was more than usual, wanting to go with him if he was leaving the house even if it was to hop by the store for some greasy snacks. He could hardly smoke a blunt without the Stark breathing down his neck about it. Theon tried to think of it as endearing but to be perfectly honest it was annoying as all Hell...if he wanted to ruin his own life why did it matter to anybody else? Shaking the darker thoughts from his head he stood to get ready for another day of canoodling. His old room had pretty much stayed the same since he was shipped off to college, thinner carpet, shabby posters of various bands no one had ever heard of, the door on his sliding closet remained broken and nearly impossible to close. Most of the significant items he dragged off to his dorm, but now they were shamefully stuffed into a backpack and the single luggage bag he owned. So much for clothes...his wardrobe consisted of three pairs of ripped up skinny jeans and a multitude of graphic t-shirts and jackets to spice things up. It wasn’t exactly deep winter wear but hey it was better than nothing.

Downstairs the kids were already clamoring over the contents of their breakfast. Sansa and Robb occupied the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for the ever-growing list of demands from Bran and the youngest Stark boy. Arya seemed to want no part of this but sat at the table nonetheless. Rickon still clung to his older sister’s leg, begging for waffles like he would die if he went one more millisecond without the fluffy artery cloggers on his plate. It was chaos...but a nice kind of chaos; Theon sauntered into the mess and suggested putting chocolate chips in the waffles which sent the two younger boys into a frenzy. The oldest redhead shot him a look of dismay, he had just poked a stick in the chocolate lion den. Once they latched onto that idea they refused to let go, a few hours and dirty dishes later the troupe was happily gorging themselves on the sweet meal that might have been a bit too sugary for this early in the day. 

“We should have these for lunch too!” Rickon suggested through a mouthful of half-chewed food.  
They all laughed, this was the dilemma of making anything for this kid, once he liked something he wanted it for every dish every day until he burned himself out on it. They all learned that the hard way when he tried macaroni with hot dogs in it for the first time, the Stark cupboards had an end of the world level stash of kraft macaroni and any vegan’s worse nightmare in the fridge for months. That little quirk hadn’t seemed to fizzle out of the eight-year-old just yet.

Despite the early hour, the two eldest were already dressed and ready for the days events. Clearly those events entailed jumping into a car for a grueling drive to town, Sansa didn’t put on her nice ensembles to lounge around the house all day. Theon felt a little underdressed compared to the redheads...but they were going to the mall, not the fucking Emmy’s; Christmas shopping wasn’t exactly a red carpet event. He could see the white collar of the button-up Robb wore under a heavy grey sweater, and a shiny, expensive-looking watch decorating his wrist. His crisp black jeans must have been ironed, who the hell irons denim? And the 40-year-old virgin shoes he wore didn’t help the outfit one bit. It was a far reach from the kid who wore loose football jerseys and old basketball shorts around all day. Sansa, on the other hand, looked like she was ready for her Seventeen Magazine photoshoot, all decked out in thick-rimmed sunglasses and strappy dress that’s length was more than a little questionable. Knowing her, under those shades was an unbelievable amount of makeup...not that it was horrendous...just that it must have taken a minimum of an hour to put on. Where do chicks find the time to paint their face? 

“You know it’s December right?” When he was promptly ignored Theon moved on, “So you wanted to leave at fuckin’ Zero Dark Thirty for this super important mission of ours huh?”

“What?” The other man shrugged, “It’s already seven in the morning.”

The Greyjoy just mock-glared at him, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into an over-exaggerated grimace, he didn’t get up before noon unless his unfortunate ass was sober....not that they needed to know that. He was hoping the headache slowly creeping into his skull wouldn’t fully take hold before he got a chance to sneak away to somewhere private...maybe he should hold off for a bit anyhow.

“Also~,” Robb added in a dumb sing-song, “ I thought you’d wanna be out of the place before Mom woke up.”

Damn, that little prick knew him well. Theon let a smile break his facade and hopped up out of his chair, keys in hand. 

“Shall we?” A small round of laughter bubbled through the group.

“Let’s take my car, Greyjoy.” He shook his head with a grin, “It’s a tad more…”

“Tidy? Clean? Neat?” He retorted in a poor impersonation of the Stark, “Yeah, yeah, yeah...you have more legroom anyway.”

And by ‘legroom’ he meant ‘gas money’, but hey who was he to deny a free chauffeuring around town? Robb’s new car matched his new personality... sleek, beige, boring. It was a nice vehicle to be certain, but it gave off soccer mom vibes that any self-respecting (self-proclaimed) party animal such as himself would never be caught dead in. The interior was just as pristine, the new leather smell wafting off the seats, cupholders devoid of spare change, or old drink cups. The lack of joint roaches in the cigarette ashtray probably made it less stressful to get pulled over...God forbid the poster child of Winterfell would ever find himself sitting in front of the flashing lights of some rookie cop that didn’t know his father’s name.

The Lonely Hills shopping center was the biggest thing that Winterfell boasted. It sat on the North end of the so-called city, surrounded by smaller businesses trying to get a slice of the action that the busy locale entailed. It was perfectly parallel to the Stark abode...in terms of being clear across the damn town, it was the farthest this from their starting point. It’s not that he was nervous in cars or anything...but small talk with Sansa was worse than any vehicle accident he could endure. The ride was mostly dotted with long periods of silence as the radio hummed some garish pop song, try as he might, all attempts at conversation died rather quickly. To combat the awkward quiet Theon did what he did best when Robb drove...critique the fuck out of him.

“You don’t have to drive like a granny, dude,” He piped up, “This guy behind you has been tailgating you forever.”

“They can pass me if they want,” The redhead huffed, “I’m already going five miles over the speed limit.”

“Brake check ‘im.”

He just scoffed, “We’re not getting rear-ended because you want to have a bit of a laugh.” 

Leaning back against the seat, he sighed like a scorned child, arms crossed and eyes averted out the window. Maybe I should have done a bump before we left. It would make this whole experience a lot more pleasant...or at least tolerable. The throbbing in his temple was slightly more persistent than before.

“I wonder if they have a mall Santa,” He said after a while, “ D’you think old Saint Nick would let me sit in his lap? I bet he’d give me a hot girlfriend if I asked nicely enough.”

Theon was mostly talking to himself at this point, that’s how it usually was anyway; He was quite the rambler...especially when there was nothing important to be said.  
“I don’t think he could fit a skank down a chimney.” Sansa jabbed.

“Oh, she finally joins the battle,” He sat forward, “You’re not exactly on the nice list yourself there girlie, I’m pretty sure the whole house can hear you sneak out your window at night… no finesse, quite tragic really.”

Robb suppressed a chuckle, it was common household knowledge by now that she was slinking off in the dead of night to hang out with a certain older boy. The two had just as soon started a bet to see who would find out first, Ned or the ever-so-astute Mrs. Stark. Theon had his money on the patriarch, of course, nothing slipped by nosy-ass-Ned for long when it came to his precious children. 

“Don’t act like your midnight escapades are any less noticeable, Greyjoy.” She shot back with a smile. “Your morning booze breath is a dead giveaway.”

He faked a shocked gasp, splayed hand on his chest in false indignance, “I am a well-adjusted adult and a shining example of this neighborhood thank you very much.”

This time the cab erupted in laughter, Robb’s stunted guffawing probably hindered his driving skills but no one complained as they pulled into the parking lot. It was packed like a bunch of sardines in a shitty cold can, greyish mounds of snow littered the recently plowed asphalt, each car roof had its own sheet of white in various states of melting. The sky was just as crowded, dark clouds rolled over the hills and clogged the horizon with a vow of another flurry before sundown. The streetlights dotting the curb were spotty at best, dim and struggling against the glare of the pale sky, the large building however...stuck out like a sore thumb. It’s tan paint and spackled sidings didn’t really match any of the other architecture in town but it absolutely was the most frequented center in the area. After a brief hunt for an open spot, Robb finally shut the car off and ushered his passengers out into the cold. 

“Looks like every asshole in a hundred-mile radius decided to do their Christmas shopping today.” The brunet huffed out, his breath fogging the air lightly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he scouted the lot passively. Being a people pleaser (also self-proclaimed) didn’t mean he had to like them. Generally, he never stuck around the boring ones, which by his standards...were quite a few of them. By no means was he looking forward to plowing through the droves of mundane shitheads buying expensive, useless crap for their good-for-nothing kids. 

The heater was on full blast in the expansive cluster of stores, voices muddled by sheer number and volume...It was all so crowding. Gumball machines, claw catcher games, and cellphone kiosks stuffed the hallways lest one single inch of space was wasted. Sansa looked at home in the fluorescent lighting, practically a commercial for impressionable young teens. Robbie boy, on the other hand, looked deep in thought...as if a gift for snot-nosed Rickon would decide the world’s fate.  
“Do you think Bran is too old for a stuffed animal?” He muttered, half to himself.

“That freak is a grandpa trapped in an 11-year-old body.” Theon added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted a textbook on quantum physics.”

As they wandered through the linoleum covered maze the trio discussed what might be suitable for presents for the respective family members; Dodging other patrons with their mounds of packages was a task on its own while they spoke. The first store they actually ventured into was a sports emporium, it smelled like new rubber and sad middle-aged men. The high ceilings were accentuated with glaring lights and mannequins dressed in skimpy yoga-wear, it was one of the larger stores in the mall. 

“Arya would have a seizure in here,” Sansa scoffed, “How many soccer balls does she already own?”

“I’m sure she’ll need a new one before the year is up.” The eldest searched around for something that would remotely impress the middle Stark girl. They sifted through knee pads and cleats, Theon even got to crack a few jokes about the jockstrap section before they settled on a basic sounding present; This whole gift business was more difficult than they thought it might have been. The Greyjoy boy was already losing interest in this little outing, it had been just shy of half an hour and the constant noise was grating on his last nerve. The glimmer of hope the food court shed on the situation was the last thread keeping him tethered to the endeavor he currently found himself engaged in. He silently prayed to whoever was listening that the next shop had a bathroom.

His pleas were answered when they strolled into the book store the Lonely Hills Shopping Center took so much damn pride in. He mumbled his excuses and slipped off to the john, slinking into the restrooms and taking a quick gander to make sure no one else was providing any unwanted company. After the place was sufficiently vacated, Theon yanked the plastic baggy from his pocket; Putting just enough on his finger to alleviate his aching skull...maybe a little bit more. The pain in his sinus was dulled by the excitement of getting the elevation of the bump rushing into his head; He hadn’t even noticed the crimson lazily sliding down his face to drip onto the tiles below. The awkward jut to his neck to prevent it from staining his few clothes was uncomfortable but it quickly was shoved to the back of his mind as the euphoria clamored for attention. Shaking off the initial jolt, he waited for the blood to subside, cleaning himself off in the dingy public mirror. For a moment...just a moment...Theon wished he hadn’t done it...maybe I should have waited longer...maybe this was a ba- the door swung open and cut off the depressing thought process; He resumed his normal trajectory and joined up with his companions, It took a few minutes...granted he didn’t expect them to be in the history section looking for a thick tome to curse Bran with, but he guessed the little shit would enjoy it though.

The thick ‘new book’ smell was comforting as it was stifling, the only section that garnered his meager attention was the record aisle. Despite not having a record player and openly mocking those who did own one, he enjoyed the vintage sound and unique play style...though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Oldies, classics, new age made vinyl…it was a decent collection for such an upscale store. If he had the money, he supposed he’d be one of the hipsters dragging on about the quality difference or display aesthetic, but that was another life. They all vacated the cozy outlet once the right gifts were secured, bags in hand, and a new goal in mind they set off to browse the other ‘vast’ options the center provided. Little Ricky was probably the easiest to shop for, his expansive opinion on Paw Patrol and a menagerie of other educational kids shows were simple enough to pick and choose from...though Sansa and Theon had to steer the well-meaning older brother away from the more complicated puzzles and games. 

Already halfway through the day, the Greyjoy piped up, “I’m hungry as fuck, when are we gonna grab some food?”

Robb shot him a venomous look as he eyed the children passing by, “Jeez, we can eat whenever...just keep it down, Thee.”

“Good, I was promised a quality meal.”

“I’d hardly call the greasy shit from Free Kitchen ‘quality’” Sansa muttered to herself.

The Tyroshi restaurant was the talk of the town, a decent mixture of tradition and culture, the food wasn’t the greatest but it was something to eat. Colorful vignette and extravagant airs, it was a nice addition to the bland atmosphere, They settled down at the bright tables once their food was in hand; it was extremely spicy and exotic but enjoyable nonetheless. Digging into his extravagant burrito, Theon began the conversation to avoid the mundane, eager to engage in somewhat of an interesting back and forth before the day expired.

“Do you think the kids actually are convinced about some kind of Saint Nick or are they faking it for some good shit.”

“Christmas is supposed to be special, you don’t think they believe it?”

He shrugged, the illusion was never even an option for him, let alone a belief. Getting gifts from some rando seemed less likely than the other wild shit that seemed to happen to him.

“Anybody who thinks some old man wiggles down their chimney to reverse steal crap must be a whole new kind of mental,” Theon said between mouthfuls, “Sounds like a perv to me.”  
“You just suck the fun out of everything, don’t you?” Sansa sipped delicately on her diet coke.  
He waggled the fat, tortilla wrapped monstrosity at her in an accusatory manner, slightly leaking its contents onto the multi-colored plastic tray beneath it. “Someone has to.”

She raised her eyebrows above her wide sunglasses and took another swig of her drink, the obnoxious sound of the mostly empty cup was more than slightly irritating. Robb, on the other hand, seemed to be fully encapsulated in devouring his obscene amount of hard-shelled tacos. The bustle of the food court seemed to go over his head as he focused his energy on wolfing down the perfect ratio of meat to cheese a taco could have. That is one of the many things Theon loved about the redhead...when he was eating that required ninety percent of his attention and not a this on planet Earth could perturb him. When they all finished their respective meals, the hunt for materialism was back on their radar. Leaving the cafeteria area was a tragedy of massive proportions, but they supposed they had to get home at some point lest Catelyn filed a missing persons report the moment the sun dipped below the mountains. 

With the last gift prospects being for the parents...and Jon, it wasn’t nearly as hard as acquiring gifts for their pickier younger siblings. For Catelyn, some lightly scented soaps...Ned, a generic mug with a bad pun painted on it...and last but certainly not least for Jon, they got some cologne that smelled like depression and leather. Prior to the outing, the trio agreed they’d buy each other presents on another occasion. They only had so much patience for the holiday crowds anyhow. Copious bags in tow, they hurried out to the car, surely cold as all hell by now after sitting in the frigid weather for a few hours. The drive back to the house would have been enjoyable, considering the lively conversation...but all Theon could think about was the fading euphoria leaving him feeling slumped and drained. I just had a hit. He shook the thought from his head. 

If he had a problem he could stop whenever he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> For more content please follow me @siagoat on Tumblr. Questions, comments, and anything in between is appreciated and adored.


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